When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Frozen Yogurt
by OKFandom
Summary: Cyrus wakes up with a hangover, and afraid to find out what exactly he did last night. HarlockShipping; [Guzma/Cyrus] Established Relationship


Ironically, Cy is the one, out of the two of them, who makes Dad jokes.

* * *

The first thing Cyrus noticed upon waking was that he wasn't in bed. He was on the couch, in fact. The second thing was regret, his vision spinning as he tried to stand up. _That_ certainly wasn't happening just yet, he decided.

A scraping sound cut through his hazy state after a few moments, the sound grating on his ears. Willing down the nausea that kept trying to bite its way up his throat, he slowly managed to sit up. Once his vision cleared, he found none other than Guzma sitting on the other end of the couch. The other man was meticulously cleaning out a bowl of frozen yogurt with a spoon, a whirring… _contraption_ of some sort taking up the space in front of him. He nodded to Cyrus upon noticing the man had awakened, mouth too full of the frozen substance to speak.

Cyrus took a long, _long_ look at the machine, then Guzma, then the machine again before speaking. "...what did I miss?"

"Well look who decided ta greet the day! Mornin', schnookums." Guzma finally greeted, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

"This isn't greeting. This is... _hostilely staring_ until it goes away." Cyrus rebutted, unamused. The hangover left very little room for him to focus on anything other than existing on the physical plane, though the effects were lessening now that he was fully awake. "…feet off the table."

Guzma gave a snort as he lowered his legs back to the floor. "Ya mean, glaring?"

"Shut up."

The white-haired man continued to snicker as he slid a bowl of frozen yogurt over to Cyrus' end of the table. "This thing's pretty awesome, yo." He stated, patting the strange machine next to him. "Never knew ya could build shit like this."

"... _I_ built this?" The concept took a moment to get through his addled brain. It's most certainly not that he wasn't _capable_ of the feat, just… "Why would I build that?"

"Hell if I know, yo, but I'm fuckin' lovin' it. Shoulda added some more flavors." Guzma shrugged, taking the proffered bowl back once it became apparent Cyrus wasn't going to be eating it. The device, as though sensing it was being spoken of, jerked upright suddenly. Its chassis spasmed once, twice, then suddenly halted, spewing out confetti from a small slot at the top. An annoying, twangy tune accompanied it, doing absolutely no favors for the headache Cyrus was already contending with.

The blue-haired man's disbelief only increased as he stared, covering his ears while the song played. "I did _not_ build _that_."

"Pretty sure ya did~" Chuckling, Guzma leaned back into the cushions. Nothing like being comfy while recounting your boyfriend's inebriation, right? "You were like, only five drinks in and started just grabbin' random shit. When I asked about it, ya said ya were buildin' a time machine."

Though only vaguely, Cyrus _could_ remember making that comment, albeit embarrassedly now. "I take it things didn't go as planned."

"Like hell they didn'!" Guzma could barely contain his laughter as he pressed a button on the side of the device, which had finally grown quiet again, causing a digital clock display to pop out. "See? Time...machine. Y-ya even dad joke when yer drunk, man!" Facade crumbling, the Alolan gave into the need to guffaw, somehow managing to fit his next sentence in between his laughs. "Y-ya, made it tell shitty knock-knock jokes, too. Hey, hey, robot! Tell us a joke."

Cyrus cringed, fearing whatever horrible jokes he could have possibly programmed into the device during his drunken attempt at engineering.

"KNOCK KNOCK." A jarring, computerized voice began after processing the request.

"Who's there?"

"TO."

"To who?"

"TO WHOM."

If he were in a better state of mind – _any_ better state of mind – Cyrus might have cracked a smile at the dry joke. As it stood, though, the corny humor just made the prospect of going back to sleep all the more appealing.

Guzma snorted again, though more at his boyfriend's put-out expression than the joke itself. "And _I_ helped."

The Sinnohite could, miraculously, still recall bits and pieces of his partner rattling off ideas to him as he built. 'Helped', indeed. "Yes, I can remember that."

"Yeah an' I made it like, ten times better than you were gonna!" Guzma insisted, getting yet another serving of yogurt from the machine.

Cyrus shrugged the comment off, sighing as he grabbed a spare bowl to get his own frozen treat. Unfortunately, what his boyfriend had gotten was the last of the batch; the machine would have to be refilled before it would give out any more. Mulling over the situation, he ultimately decided changing into fresher clothes was next on the agenda. Though, he didn't hesitate to snatch his boyfriend's snack as he trudged by.

Guzma's reaction was delayed by shock, not expecting the other man to suddenly make off with his yogurt. "Wh- HEY! I was eatin' that!"

Cyrus' voice carried from beyond the doorway, distorted slightly as he spoke around the food in his mouth. "My robot, my rules."

" _Our_ robot, yo! I helped!" The Alolan's cry was ignored, much to his dismay. "Get back here!" Guzma took off in pursuit of both boyfriend, the robot beeping and beginning to spin again, as though cheering him on.

 _FIN_


End file.
